Who You Think You Are… Isn’t Who You Really Are

There. I said it.

And no, this one’s not for the average mind.
Then again, most of what I write probably isn’t.

Let’s be real… Who do you think you are?
Like really, not the curated version. Not your Instagram bio, not what your job title says, and definitely not what your followers believe. Who do you say you are when the world gets quiet?

…Tough to answer, isn’t it?

That pause? That tiny flicker of hesitation?
That’s the moment I live for.

See, I’ve been sitting with this question myself. Long enough to realize the person I thought I was, the image I built, the roles I played, the expectations I met, none of that was really me. It was just the performance of self. A highlight reel, looped to convince myself I was doing “enough” or being “someone.”

But deep down… I wasn’t buying it.

And if I wasn’t buying it, what makes you think the world was?

So let’s go back.
Who do you think you are?

Sit with it.

You’ll realize that the answer changes depending on the day, the season, your wins, your losses, your audience, or your trauma. Some days, you feel like a boss. Other days, like a fraud. One moment you’re on top of the world, the next you’re under it. So if it all shifts that easily, then was it ever real?

The truth is: nothing really matters.

Hold up, don’t misread that.
This isn’t me spiraling into some sad boy blog about how life is meaningless.

It’s actually quite the opposite.

What I’m saying is… if nothing really matters in the end, if the only promise in this life is death, then why not make it matter?

You think fear matters? It doesn’t.
You think failure matters? Nope.
You think looking “cringe” matters? Not even a little.

You know what does matter?

Showing up.
For yourself.
For your vision.
For the people you love.

Let me put it in perspective:

Bruce Willis; a man who’s been on millions of screens, remembered in households across decades, is slowly forgetting who he is. His name, his legacy, all the applause… fading.

If he doesn’t get to keep the memory of his fame… what makes you think any of this is permanent?

So if you’re gonna go out, which we all will, wouldn’t you want to go out knowing you gave it your all, said what you meant, built something real, lived without needing the world’s approval?

Wouldn’t you want to die knowing who you actually were?

Here’s a story for you.

A few years back, I went through a season where I didn’t recognize myself.

Everything around me looked successful, I was creating, building, connecting. But inside? I felt lost. I kept chasing the next big moment, the next big idea, hoping it would affirm that I was really who I said I was. But it never did. It just kept spinning.

One night, I sat in HQ alone. I turned off all the lights and just sat there, no music, no edits, no distractions. Just me. It hit me how far I had strayed from myself. I wasn’t creating for me anymore. I was performing. Trying to prove my worth to people who weren’t even watching.

I cried.

Not out of sadness.
But out of relief.

I finally gave myself permission to strip it all down.
To rebuild from the ground up.
To stop pretending and start being.

That night, I wrote in my notes:

“If I’m gonna be remembered, let it be for something real.”

And ever since, that’s been my compass.

So now, I’ll leave you with this:

Ask yourself, what actually matters to you?
Not what looks good. Not what gets you praise.
What really matters?

Write it down.
Say it out loud.
Start building from there.

Because who you think you are? That might just be a version of you the world taught you to be.

But who you really are?

That’s the one waiting on the other side of your fear.

And trust me, they’re worth meeting.

Quick Exercise (if you’re brave enough):

1. Write down the version of yourself you think you are.
   Titles, roles, how people describe you.
2. Now write down the version of yourself you’d be if no one was watching.
   What would you do? Who would you love? What would you create?
3. Compare them.
   Ask yourself: what’s standing in the way?
4. Now go break that wall down.
   Even if it looks cringe. Especially if it looks cringe.

You don’t have forever. But you do have right now. And that’s enough to start.

Hope this helps,

— B